


A Little Competition Never Killed Nobody

by niffizzle



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Potions Class
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-26
Updated: 2018-05-26
Packaged: 2019-05-13 21:17:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14756475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/niffizzle/pseuds/niffizzle
Summary: After the war, Draco is determined to finally beat Hermione academically, especially once there's a wager involved.





	A Little Competition Never Killed Nobody

**Author's Note:**

> _You don't have to come first, second is okay, cause you ain't ever beating me_ \- Competition by Little Mix
> 
> Thank you to CourtingInsanity for being a lovely beta once again x

The crowd of first and second years scurried out of Draco’s path, his head high as he sauntered down the corridor past the younger students towards the dungeons. He may have come back to Hogwarts as somewhat of a pariah after the war, but he still evoked enough fear out of most students to get his way.

They were getting last week’s Potions exams back today, and he was confident that he had beaten her this time around. She may have always received the top mark when they were younger, but that was only because he hadn’t been trying. He could have had perfect marks too if he hadn’t been so preoccupied with mocking Potter and playing Quidditch. But now that they were older and the war was behind them, Draco was determined to best her once and for all.

Although, their bet certainly hadn’t hurt his motivation, either.

From halfway down the hall, he easily recognised her curls, savouring the sight of her arse in the air as she dug for something in her bag before entering the classroom. He walked up behind her and leaned over so that his chest was flush against her back, caging her in with his body. His hand connected with her bare thigh and grazed under the edges of her skirt.

“Reconsidering that bet yet?” he purred into her ear.

Hermione turned scarlet. “Not here, Draco,” she said, pushing him away and checking their surroundings to ensure that no one had seen. When she saw that the coast was clear, she picked up her bag and raised an eyebrow. “And for the record, I highly doubt you won. Did you remember that you need to shake the wormwood?”

“Of course.”

“And what about the shrivelfigs? Did you recall that you need to juice them properly?”

“Only an idiot would forget that.”

“Or perhaps you didn’t -”

“You can keep asking, but the answer is no, I didn’t exclude any steps in the process.” He came in closer, his words softly caressing her ear. “As you know, I have an _excellent_ tutor.”

He shot her a wink before stepping inside the classroom, leaving her blushing in the corridor and him sporting a massive smile.

 

From the far corner of the classroom, Draco didn’t have the best view of Hermione eagerly sitting in the front row, but he couldn’t miss the way her hand shot up to answer every single one of Slughorn’s questions. Draco leaned back in his chair, tuning out the walrus’s prattling. He already knew how to brew Elixir of Induced Euphoria, and anything especially pertinent that he missed, Hermione would tell him when they made it to the library that evening. That is if he let her talk that long. 

Their near nightly rendezvouses were probably the only thing that made Hogwarts tolerable anymore. Not that Draco had ever particularly cared for the school, but it had been even more unbearable this year. None of his friends had decided to attend, and her friends had abandoned her as well. He could only imagine what Scarhead and the Weasel would say if they knew that their bookworm friend did more than just _study_ in the library.

The strange thing was that it actually had started off as nothing more than innocent, albeit involuntary, tutoring. Draco had fallen embarrassingly behind in the wake of his… distractions… sixth year, and the nightmare that was McGonagall had required that he get caught up if he wanted to stay in N.E.W.T. level Potions. It was painfully obvious that the witch had purposefully selected Hermione to help him, and despite the Gryffindor’s protests, even she didn’t have enough leverage to convince the new Headmistress otherwise.

Needless to say, they had had a rocky start. Prolonged silence interspersed with raging arguments did not lead to a conducive learning relationship, and Madam Pince had banned them from the library for a week after one particularly heated row. Neglecting their sessions wasn’t something they even considered an option under McGonagall’s watchful eye, so they had resorted to meeting in an empty classroom after dinner. When they had broken into another inevitable dispute the following evening, Draco had found himself slamming his lips against hers to get her to finally shut up -- an action that had shaken both of them to their cores.

And yet, neither of them had tried to stop what quickly blossomed between them after that.

“Mr Malfoy,” Slughorn said in his booming voice, snapping Draco out of his reverie. “What could I add in order to counteract the side-effects?"

Draco didn’t bother to look up from his book. “Peppermint.”

Slughorn released a startlingly high pitched coo at his response. “That’s right, my boy! Five points to Slytherin. It seems like someone has been working hard this year!” He paused and looked around at the class. “Well, what are you all waiting for? Write that down!”

The rest of the class picked up their quills and started scribbling their notes, but from across the classroom, he caught sight of Hermione looking back at him with a condescending smile. Draco made sure to roll his eyes even more dramatically than usual so she couldn’t miss it. Just because she happened to have reviewed Elixir of Induced Euphoria with him last week did not mean she got to take any credit for his correct answer.

Fine. Perhaps partial credit. But when those exam results came back, he hoped to erase that know-it-all look on her face for a day or two -- or at least long enough for him to cash in on his reward.

 

“Not a bad job today,” Draco whispered in her ear as he returned his cauldron to the back of the classroom. 

Hermione looked over her shoulder and then back at Draco. “Your tutoring must be paying off if you’re now able to produce potions as well as I can,” she said with a grin.

Draco couldn’t withhold his laugh. “Don’t flatter yourself. I was always a good potioneer. Although, I will agree that tutoring _is_ paying off.”

His hand brushed the length of her thigh, but she swatted it away an instant later.

“ _Not here_.”

“I can’t touch you in class, but you let me fuck you in the library stacks?”

The crimson blush returned to her cheeks.

“Just wait until what happens tonight when I win our little bet." He winked at her once more and returned to his seat, leaving Hermione flustered.

After over a month of shagging, she was still adamant about keeping it all a secret. He didn’t particularly mind; he merely enjoyed occasionally irritating her. There would be just as many questions for him as there would be for her if it ever got out about their “study habits.” Besides, it added to their fun.

His mind raced in anticipation of what tonight’s tryst would include if he did in fact win their bet, formulating the dirty things he would whisper in her ear as she bit back a moan. He imagined her thighs wrapped around his waist as he sunk into her, her back slammed against the bookshelves, her knickers tucked safely in his pocket. If they had been banned for a week from an argument, he could only imagine what the consequences would be if they got caught in a more compromising position.

A couple of students were still putting away vials of sopophorous beans and porcupine quills as Slughorn gathered a stack of parchments and began returning the graded exams to their owners. Several students groaned at their results and sulked out of the classroom in disappointment, but that obnoxiously too-cheerful smile was plastered across Slughorn’s face when he gave Draco his exam.

Poised on top of his parchment was a perfect score.

A smirk came to his lips. Just as he had expected.

After he had distributed the rest of the exams, Slughorn returned to his office, and the students slowly filed out until only Draco and Hermione were left. She remained in her seat, flipping through the pages of her exam, a shocked expression on her face. As he approached, she turned her exam face down, apparently too embarrassed to even show him her score.

“I told you I didn’t forget anything.” Draco gloated, dropping his exam on the desk for her to take in. He came up behind her and balanced his hands on her shoulders, ghosting his lips right beside her ear. “I believe this means I win our bet?”

His front teeth grazed his bottom lip, and he let his imagination start to run wild with the possibilities, but something wasn’t right. Hermione hadn’t made any sort of reaction to his comments. Her score couldn't be _that_ bad.

She tried to stop him from snatching the exam from her desk, but he was too quick for her.

Draco’s jaw dropped. It wasn’t possible! Somehow, she had managed to get _additional_ marks. He furiously tore through the pages of parchment, trying to figure out what in Merlin’s name warranted her getting above a perfect score. To his dismay, each one of her answers was nothing short of pristine, as if copied straight out of a textbook. The margins were filled with excited comments from Slughorn, praising her for her depth and analysis.

“This doesn’t count!” he contended, his fantasies of that evening being ripped to shreds.

Hermione gently tugged the exam out of his hands. Her head slowly peered over her shoulder to look at him, her lips together in a tight, knowing smile.

“Don’t give me that look.”

She cocked her head, but the expression didn’t fade.

He knew then that any further protest would be futile.

“Fine,” he surrendered with a smirk. “What do you have in mind, Granger?”

***

Draco frowned as he gave himself one more look over in the mirror. When they agreed that the loser had to do whatever the winner wanted the night of their exam results, he assumed there was a general understanding that they meant it in a sexual sense. Hermione, however, had taken a different interpretation.

He had safely waited until the Slytherin common room was empty to make his way to the Great Hall. If he was going to be doing this, then he was going to do it right, and that meant making a proper spectacle of it.

By the time he arrived, dinner was already served, and the entire school was focused on their meals -- that was until they caught sight of Draco. Each student he passed stopped mid-bite, looking at Draco curiously as he marched past them acting as if nothing was out of the ordinary and there wasn’t a red and gold tie around his neck. His lips maintained his trademark snarl, a last minute effort to preserve the healthy dose of fear he had instilled in those younger students.

Draco pushed aside two first year Slytherins, making space for himself to step onto the bench and then the table. He pulled out his wand and directed it to his throat, mumbling, “ _Sonorus_.”

At this point, the Ravenclaws were starting to peek in his direction, as were a few Hufflepuffs. But Draco’s attention was only on one particular student at the Gryffindor table. She smiled at him, and he shook his head, ready to swallow his pride so publicly.

He cleared his throat, and the sound of it echoed into every ear. From the teacher’s table, McGonagall had arisen from her seat, anger already etched into her features. He had to make this fast.

“I, Draco Malfoy,” he announced, his voice amplified throughout the entire Great Hall, “do hereby admit once and for all that Muggle-borns are just as good as purebloods.”

“Mr Malfoy, you get down from there this instant!” McGonagall shouted at him from the head table.

Across the hall, Hermione raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to finish.

Draco knocked his head back and groaned. He had no issue saying the first part of her speech; it was the other part that took things too far! But McGonagall was now making her way towards him, and his seconds in the spotlight were running out.

He released another groan. A deal’s a deal.

“And I hope Gryffindor wins the Quidditch Cup this year.”

He only barely got the words out in time before McGonagall hiked up her emerald robes and pulled Draco down from off the table. The whole Gryffindor table erupted into cheers, while the Ravenclaws laughed, the Slytherins glared, and the Hufflepuff resumed their meals as if they had never been interrupted.

“While I am quite pleased to hear you say those words, I cannot condone the presentation of your delayed revelation!” McGonagall hissed as she escorted him towards the exit. “I do not know what in Merlin’s name made you think that was appropriate. Fifteen points from Slytherin _and_ you have detention!”

She continued with some long-winded tirade that Draco ignored, looking over his shoulder to find Hermione in the crowd of students. There was a massive grin on her face, and she was giving him a slow applause for his performance. If he weren’t being dragged away, he would have paused to bow, but provided his current circumstance, he didn’t think it wise.

He was nearly out the door when Hermione subtly raised nine fingers, bit her lip, and winked at him. Draco’s eyebrows came together, not wanting to get his hopes up too much, but she nodded and bit her lip again as it spread into a smile.

Provided that McGonagall didn’t keep him all night, it seemed like their not so innocent meet up was still on. Turns out he was a winner in their bet after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Please take a moment to let me know what you think, and thanks for reading!


End file.
